


History Repeats Itself

by JustAnotherFanfictionWriter



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M, SO MANY CHARACTERS WILL BE TAGGED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherFanfictionWriter/pseuds/JustAnotherFanfictionWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's an old saying, that history repeats itself. I just hope this time is different."</p>
            </blockquote>





	History Repeats Itself

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen The Battle of the Five Armies, or if you haven't read the book The Hobbit there WILL be spoilers ahead. Read at your own risk.

1

            Thorin ran through the streets of Dale, holding an apple he’d bought. Other Dwarven children chased him for it, a little game they loved to play. Thorin was the fastest of them all, and soon outran them. He chuckled, tossing the apple over his head and catching it. He almost took a bite out of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a human child, cuddled in the shadows of an alleyway. Thorin sighed, and looked at his apple. He didn’t need it. He handed it to the boy. The boy watched him in awe.

            “I don’t need it.” Thorin told him.

            The boy took the apple wordlessly. His eyes were filled with happiness. He began eating it quickly, as if it would disappear if he didn’t. Thorin smiled at his good deed. He took out the coin purse he kept in one of his pockets. Carefully, he handed it to the boy.

            “I couldn’t!” The boy said, his mouth full of apple.

            “I have tons of it at home.” Thorin said, “I can just get more.”

            The boy gingerly took the purple velvet bag. Before the boy could refuse it again, Thorin walked away. He was proud of what he’d done. He was relieved that he chose to save the lad.

 

            The next day was better than that day. The air was hot and dry, making it wonderful to spend time in Dale. Thorin ran and played with the other Dwarven children, spotting the boy from yesterday buying himself some food. Thorin hadn’t gone to the gold room, however he was glad to see that the boy was fine. He continued to run, until a shadow blocked the sun. Thorin looked up, only to see the red scales of a dragon, and fire raining down on the city.

            He stood in shock as he heard the screams of the people his grandfather swore he’d protect. Thorin felt a tap to his shoulder. The boy from earlier pulled his arm into safety as dragon fire rained where he once stood. The boy held his index finger to his lips, shushing Thorin. Thorin nodded weakly. The boy dragged Thorin from the cover they were in to a safer place. They did this for quite some time before reaching where they could leave. The boy walked ahead of Thorin, calmly watching the skies. Thorin watched the boy. He couldn’t bring himself to look for the dragon; it scared him. The boy’s eyes widened suddenly. He lunged back at Thorin, pushing him back. The dragon had swooped down, picking the boy up.

            “No!” Thorin shrieked. The dragon flew out of sight.

            Thorin thought about running back and trying to find his friend. As he started to run back, Balin picked him up. Thorin kept screaming for his friend. He sobbed bitterly as Balin carried him to where the other Dwarves waited. He buried his head into Balin’s shoulder. He couldn’t stop sobbing, even if he tried.

            When they stopped for the night, Thorin had settled down. He’d accepted that his friend and everyone else in Dale was gone. It was hard for him to imagine that, but it was the truth. Thorin shivered as he hugged his knees, resting his head on them. He watched his people try to reunite with loved ones. Some cried loudly, others cried silently. Thorin saw his Grandfather, father, and sister holding each other, but not his mother. Thorin’s heart sank. He wanted his mother to hold him close, and stroke his hair. He wanted her to tell him everything was alright. Thrain looked at Thorin sadly. Thorin looked away from them, towards Balin. He and Dwalin were hugging tightly, foreheads pressed against each other. Thorin found himself smiling softly. He was glad they were reunited. Thorin said nothing the rest of the night as he sat, watching his people. Out of the corner of his eye, Thorin saw the worry in Balin’s face. Thorin couldn’t make himself speak, even for Balin. It was like the destruction of that day stole his voice.

* * *

 

            Thorin had never seen an elf up close. He’d told his human friend about how the Elven lord would pay tribute to his grandfather, but it was always him watching from far away. The elven lord stood in front of them now. Thror yelled at him. Thrain held Thorin’s shoulder.

            “I’m offering you help now.” The elven lord said, “If you will not take it, then your people will suffer.”

            “You saw the dragon!” Thror shouted, “You should have helped!”

            “I’ll not risk my men for the likes of you.” The elven lord replied.

            With the wave of his hand, the aid that the people of Erebor desperately needed started walking away. Thorin’s heart leapt into his chest as he pulled his father’s arm off of his shoulder. Thorin chased after the elven lord desperately. Balin and Thrain called after him, panicked. He could die out in the Greenwood.

            Thorin walked for hours after he grew tired of running. He’d stumbled into a part of the Greenwood still corrupted with evil. The darkness was unsettling. The young dwarf saw large spider webs. He walked away from them, only to hear an arrow whiz past his ear. He then heard the dying shriek of a spider. Thorin turned around sharply. The creature was almost five times his size. He shivered in fear.

            “You’re a bit far from your home, little Dwarf.” The elven lord said.

            Thorin turned to him and winced. Part of him wondered if he would be able to speak to the elf.

            “We need help.” He blurted out, “My grandfather is stubborn and puts his pride before our people. We have many sick, and many more injured. We are defenseless, hungry, and running out of water.”

            The elf lord watched Thorin carefully. Thorin watched the lord nervously, wondering if the lord would accept his plea. The elf lord blinked and then sighed.

            “You are asking for my help, when your grandfather refused me?” The elf king asked, “Do you really think I will?”

            Thorin clenched his jaw. He didn’t know what to think. He just knew his people were dying, and they needed help immediately.

            “I hope you will see my plea.” Thorin said.

            “Your people are high and mighty.” The elf retorted, “Save yourselves.”

            “We can’t!” Thorin finally shouted, “I thought we could be protected from everything, that we were the strongest army out there. I was wrong. We were no match for that dragon. I lost a friend that day. An entire city lost their lives. You didn’t come and help because you know the destruction. So why not help us now? Now that the dragon is far away from you? What will you lose for helping us? It’s embarrassing to ask for help in the first place! It’s hard to know your people are dying, and you can do nothing to help!”

            Thorin took a moment to breathe and wipe the tears from his eyes. He was surprised at how raw his emotions were at this point. He watched the elven lord. The elf stared at him, surprised. It was unusual for him to have said that, and he knew that very well. The elven lord looked away from Thorin and through the woods.

            “In all accounts, you are right.” The elven lord admitted, “However your grandfather will not accept my help.”

            “My grandfather is ignoring his people. I won’t.” Thorin replied.

            The elf smiled. An elk stood nearby, waiting for the elf and Thorin. The elf picked Thorin up and placed him on the elk. Then, the lord took his place on it. The pair rode to where the aid meant for Thorin’s people was. The elven lord explained in his natural tongue Thorin’s plight, and the new situation for them. Gladly, the elves turned around and headed back to the Dwarven camp.

            When Thorin arrived, Thrain and Balin were waiting nervously. They were talking in hushed voices about where Thorin had gone. Dwalin had gone looking, but only found a small piece of fabric from Thorin’s coat. The group looked up when they heard the sound of carts. Thrain looked surprised and relieved as he rushed forward to where Thorin had been placed. Thrain wrapped his arms around his son, kissing the boy’s head.

            “Don’t do that again, Thorin. We feared you would die.” Thrain said.

            Thorin hugged his father in return.

            “I didn’t. Our people now have help.” Thorin whispered.

            Thrain looked up at the elf lord and bowed his head, letting go of his son. Thorin followed the carts of medicine, asking if there was anything he could do to help. He glanced back at his father and the elven lord. They were talking while watching him.

            “Thorin.” Thrain called, gesturing for him to come.

            Thorin nodded and walked to his father. He stood firmly as his grandfather exited the tent that was set up. His grandfather screamed at the elves, telling them to leave. Their help wasn’t appreciated, they didn’t help when they could have. The elven lord shook his head at Thror.

            “I would have let your people starve, and not had any guilt about it.” The lord said, “You were the only one to seek me out. You were the only one to admit your weakness, and ask for help. For that, your people should be thankful.”

            Thorin watched the elf when he spoke. The elf took something from one of the carts. It was a sword, from what Thorin could see. It was almost as tall as him at this point. The elf knelt down and handed the blade to Thorin.

            “This sword belonged to Elves hundreds of years ago. Then, it belonged to your ancestor Thorin Oakenshield.” The elf explained, “I never much liked him until the end of his life. He would have made a good King had he lived. Now, you bare the traits I saw in him during his final moments.”

            “Thank you.” Thorin said, awkwardly holding the large blade.

            Thrain gently took it from the boy and patted his head.

            “I am Thranduil. I am one of the three Elven lords in this land. Your love and care for your people has moved me. I will bring aid to you and your people, for your sake and no one else’s. I feel that just like your ancestor, you will make a wonderful King under the Mountain one day.”

            Thranduil bowed his head to the child. Thorin nervously bowed in return. Thrain chuckled, and patted Thorin’s back.

            “Thank you, Thranduil.” Thrain said, “I’ll hold onto the blade for my son. I’ll give it to him when he’s ready to become King.”

            Thranduil nodded at Thrain.

            “Don’t worry, son of Thror. I’ve not forgotten you. You act more like the Thorin I once knew than you think. It could be your downfall, however it could also be your salvation. I shall watch you with care.” Thranduil said, “I thank you for your generosity.”

            Thranduil turned to Thorin, and smiled softly.

            “The blade is called Orchrist. May it protect you when you need it.” Thranduil said.

            Thranduil told something to his elven companions. He got on his elk and nodded to Thorin one last time before heading back to his home. Thorin waved at Thranduil, though the man couldn’t see him.

* * *

 

            Thorin waited anxiously for his father, Balin, Dwalin, and grandfather to return from the mines. They’d gone to take them back rather than head to the Blue Mountains. Thorin stood up when he heard marching. Thorin raced out of the tent. He saw his grandfather, Balin and Dwalin. Thorin’s heart fell. He rushed to Balin, asking about his father.

            “He didn’t make it off of the battlefield, lad.” Balin told him, his voice cracking.

            Thorin almost sank to his knees. He closed his eyes, tears flowing down his face. His father died in his place, just like his friend in Dale. Thror glared at Thorin and headed off. Thror looked as if he was carrying something. Balin wiped Thorin’s tears, and stood the lad up.

            “Your grandfather is sick. He cannot rule over his people anymore. We look to you now, lad.” Balin said to him, “I won’t ask you to do this alone. Dwalin and I would be more than willing to help.”

            Thorin sighed softly and nodded. He glanced to where his grandfather was. Dis had walked up to him and started yelling at him. She had a right to be angry; because of him, their father was dead. Thror spat at her and hissed like a dragon.

            “Dragon’s curse.” Balin explained, “You think and act like a dragon. Thror found some gold on the battlefield and has been hoarding it since. He’s yelled at anyone who is getting too close. He believes the Arkenstone is in that pile.”

            Dis eventually threw her hands in the air and stormed away from Thror. Thror looked at Thorin and glared. He shouted that what happened was his fault, and ran off into the distance. Thorin sighed and shook his head.

            “Who will help us?” Thorin asked.

            “Your cousin in the Iron Hills will.” Dwalin said.

            “He’s too far away, and we have to head past the dragon. I doubt he’s truly asleep by this point, so we run the risk of waking him. The Blue Mountains are closer, and they may help us. Thranduil is also a bit too far for us to go to him.” Balin retorted.

            Thorin nodded.

            “To the Blue Mountains then.” Thorin said calmly.

            “Hard to believe the lad is King now. Then again, he’d make a wonderful king, just like his father said he would.” Balin mumbled to Dwalin as they watched Thorin tend to his people, preparing them for the long journey ahead of them.


End file.
